


Untitled

by CitrusVanille



Category: Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are Dead - Stoppard
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-09 10:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4344959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CitrusVanille/pseuds/CitrusVanille
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>In honour of finishing our production, and as I seem unable to let them go, and even my AIM conversations must somehow revolve around 'well, logically, it would only happen if...', and bunnies like to chew my ears, here's a bit of a oneshot, long drabble-type thing.</p>
<p>'Tis untitled, but it's Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, of course. I still own nothing. Except the skull of Poor Yorick, which will forever remain a monument to the insanity of our own show.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Untitled

**Author's Note:**

> In honour of finishing our production, and as I seem unable to let them go, and even my AIM conversations must somehow revolve around 'well, logically, it would only happen if...', and bunnies like to chew my ears, here's a bit of a oneshot, long drabble-type thing.
> 
> 'Tis untitled, but it's Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, of course. I still own nothing. Except the skull of Poor Yorick, which will forever remain a monument to the insanity of our own show.

“…Because you’d be helpless, wouldn’t you?” Rosencrantz rambled on. “Stuffed in a box like that, I mean, you’d be in there forever. Even taking into account the fact that you’re dead, it isn’t a pleasant thought. _Especially_ if you’re dead, really… _ask_ yourself,” he turned to his companion, “if I asked you straight off – I’m going to stuff you in this box now, would you rather be alive or dead?” he paused for a moment.

Guildenstern just looked at him incredulously.

Rosencrantz shrugged and went on. “Naturally, you’d prefer to be alive. Life in a box is better than no life at all. I expect. You’d have a chance, at least. You could lie there thinking – well, at least I’m not dead! In a minute, someone’s going to bang on the lid and tell me to come out.” He rapped his knuckles on the floor. “‘Hey you, whatsyername! Come out of there!’”

All in an instant, Rosencrantz was knocked flat on his back, pinned beneath Guildenstern’s weight.

“You don’t have to flog it to death!” the shorter man bit out.

Rosencrantz blinked up at him, confused and a little dazed from cracking his head on the ground. Guildenstern was still on top of him, so close that each warm exhalation washed over Rosencrantz’s face.

Rosencrantz shifted slightly, suddenly finding it very hard to breathe, which was odd, because Guildenstern wasn’t really that heavy.

“I wouldn’t –” he began.

But Guildenstern growled, a peculiar sound deep in his chest, and Rosencrantz’s head connected with the floor again as Guildenstern’s mouth pressed against his, cutting him off.

Rosencrantz squeaked – more in surprise than pain – and squirmed slightly, but the damp nudge of a tongue against his lips was very insistent – not to mention distracting – and any protest he might have made died in his throat.

_Relax. Respond. That’s what people do._

Rosencrantz felt his body obey.

Scant moments later, Guildenstern pulled back, putting several inches of air between them, but still keeping a one-handed grip on Rosencrantz’s wrists, which had been drawn above his head at some uncertain point. He seemed much calmer.

Rosencrantz blinked at him again. “What was that?” he asked finally.

Guildenstern smiled – an expression Rosencrantz hadn’t seen in… he couldn’t remember how long – but didn’t respond.

Slightly unnerved, Rosencrantz frowned. “What’s the matter with you?”

Guildenstern’s smile turned into a smirk – which was, if possible, even more unnerving. “Just being friendly,” he replied, then leaned in again before Rosencrantz could ask anything else.

**END**


End file.
